Death Never Lies - Short Story
by ExtraordinaryElliot
Summary: When you're gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame, who tells your story?


Cas stood over the stones, eyes reading over the various words. There were three, one adult and two ... well, adults, too, he guessed. He was clutching a handful of three flowers, all different colors. The blue one was for Mary, the purple for Sam, and the green for Dean. Cas liked to think that his best friend would have liked his flower; it did rhyme with Dean, after all. And it was like his eyes - the same shade, the same awe, the same beauty. He placed each flower on the respective grave, frowning at the crumbling stones. He shouldn't have been surprised. They had been here for over three hundred years, but it still annoyed him every time he was forced to clean them up.

He remembered the deaths in vivid detail - how Dean had watched Sam die at the hands of a vampire, his brother's eyes dimming. He'd begged Cas to bring his back, but Billy had made good on her promise. Sam was in the oblivion, his soul lost to the dead and living worlds. Mary was next, her brain going numb as she was taken over by a demon and shot by another Hunter. Cas didn't think he'd ever seen Dean rip a human's throat out before - it was a scary thing, seeing his human covered in blood, tears in his eyes, a dead body to his right. He'd lost so much, and his family ... his family was a special thing he shouldn't have lost.

Cas remembered walking into the Bunker and seeing Dean, his blood spilled over the floors, cuts up and down his wrists. He'd cried. He'd cried before, sure - but the angel had never cried so much. He hadn't really tried killing himself until than. But if Joshua hadn't saved him right then, he would have. The angel had stood over him, eyes holding a new level of disappointment. _Bring him back. Bring Dean back!_ "He's gone, Castiel. That Reaper is good on her word." Cas healed, physically. Mentally? Emotionally? He didn't think he ever would.

Dean Winchester was dead.

And, just maybe, Cas was, too.

So he stood over the grave, trying to recall why he had never told Dean he had liked him. It was always there - the subtle flirting, the stares they always gave each other, their more _profound bond_. The angels had told him it was ridiculous, that they couldn't possibly fall for humans because it would be improper. But Cas knew what he liked. And perhaps he liked guys who were 6'1, with brown hair and green eyes and a great smile. And who cares if it was gay? God was a bisexual, non-virgin, alcoholic sellout. Shouldn't Cas be able to be a 5'11 gay angel?

The wind blew past, ruffling his dark hair. Cas wondered why he was there. Dean wouldn't be able to see him, wouldn't be able to see the flower. He also wondered what Dean was doing at the moment - the Void was a dark place. Was Dean still able to feel pain? If Cas could being him back, would be even still be the same Dean? Would he even remember Cas and everything they had been through? Questions Cas was dying to get an answer to, but never could. Never would.

Perhaps Sam would have been able to answer them.

Dean was Cas' favorite, no doubt, but Sam came in as a close second. The tall human had been the first human to greet him with a smile - the other angels did so with a frown, a Dean had tried stabbing him. Granted, Dean hadn't known what was going on. The eldest Winchester brother was so naive back then - they both were. But Sam had been a special case, and Cas had hurt him with that comment about demon blood. He hadn't really regretted that moment until now, when it was too late to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I really am," he promised, staring down at the grave. The words on Sam's grave - chosen by Dean, Mary, and Cas - stood out like a blood spot in the snow. _Sam Winchester - Son, Brother, and Friend._ And under that, _the most kick-ass moose you'd ever meet._ Dean had suggested that, as a joke, but Cas hadn't seen him smile like that since ... forever. So he agreed, and then Mary was on bored, and then they were getting weird looks when they were laughing over the grave.

"You were a great mother, Mary," he stated, standing over Mary's grave. Cas remembered how, after they had buried her, he had gone to the Bunker. How he and Dean had gotten drunk and Dean had leaned over to kiss him - something Cas remembered, but ever brought up. He didn't think Dean could take the embarrassment of kissing his best friend, the only person left in his life that was alive. So Cas hadn't said a single thing, keeping his mouth tight.

But, sometimes, he saw Dean give him that look. _Do you know what I know?_ Cas supposed that, had either of them brought up the kiss, things would have been different. Better. Simple. _Happy_.

If Sam was alive, he would owe Mary a twenty for how fast they would have gotten together.

If Mary was alive, she would smile at Dean and Cas. Maybe call Cas her son, despite everything.

If Dean was alive, Cas would have smiled.

"I miss you, Dean. I loved you. I still do."

He imagined what Dean would have said - some stupid line, something like _Cas, do you even know what love is?_ And Cas would tell Dean about everything, how he felt, why he did everything he did. _I betrayed heaven for you, Dean. Everything, it was for you. I love you._ He wouldn't ask, but Cas would wonder if Dean liked him, too. Loved him, maybe. Or maybe Dean would turn away, blushing red and muttering to himself. Cas had imagined how admitting his feels would go, and most of them ended with Dean laughing, placing a kiss on Cas' lips and turning away.

And, sometimes, when Cas was worried, it would end differently - Dean shouting at Cas to get out, how he never wanted to see Cas' every again; Dean rolling his eyes and shielding himself from Cas' feelings; Dean taking an angel blade and killing Cas in cold blood, just so he wouldn't have anyone to love him. Anyone who would be sad to see him go. Anyone who would try to stop him.

So Cas stayed back, taking his time.

He took too much time.

And now the Impala was gone - rusting in the back of some broken car lot. Dean was gone - in the void. Same with Sam. And Mary? Well, Cas had visited her heaven more than once. Him and Dean - happy. Sam and Jess - happy. Her and John - happy. Everyone? Yeah. Happy. Cas had stopped visiting a few years back, when it became clear - too clear.

He wasn't happy.

He wasn't _happy_.

 _He wasn't happy_.

Was Dean happy? Was Sam? Mary? Hell, even John? What about every hunter, every human, every person? Were they happy?

Was anyone happy?

And suddenly, Cas was falling. To the ground, through the air, through memories. Arms were wrapped around him, strong and warm. "Dean?" he croaked.

"Go to sleep, Cas."

And so he did.


End file.
